


Topping from the Bottom

by menel



Category: The Beast Must Die (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Boyfriends, Episode Related, Episode Tag, Established Relationship, First Time Topping, Foreplay, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Post-Canon, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Psychological Manipulation, psychopaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:26:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29901057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/menel/pseuds/menel
Summary: Kang Moo teaches Lee Kirin a valuable lesson. (Really. It's all in the title.)
Relationships: Kang Moo/Lee Kirin
Comments: 3
Kudos: 3





	Topping from the Bottom

**Author's Note:**

> Follows "A Slow and Steady Seduction: Phase II." Set after episode 82, although the fic fudges with some continuity issues, hence the 'canon-divergence' tag above.

Kirin had been sulking for almost a week. Moo wasn’t sure how much Kirin remembered of his drunken night with his friends, but he remembered enough. He wasn’t actively avoiding Moo, which was smart and would be out-of-character for Kirin, but the sulking was beginning to disturb the balance of their sex life. And the balance of their sex life was _very important_ to Kang Moo. It’s not that Kang Moo cared whether Kirin enjoyed himself during sex; it was more that Kirin’s pleasure (whether it was mingled with shame or embarrassment or humiliation) enhanced _his_ pleasure and _that_ was important. Aside from that, Kang Moo prided himself at being good at sex. (He was good at a lot of things.) If his partners didn’t have a good time, then it was a slight on him.

So far – aborted spontaneous blowjobs aside – Kirin had been predictable when it came to sex. Moo knew how to work him over. He wasn’t training Kirin in the same way that he’d trained others in the past, but the familiarity and regularity of their sex had its own built-in kind of classical conditioning. Moo knew that Kirin was a natural bottom. That didn’t mean that Kirin was feminine or emasculated in any way. Moo wouldn’t have been half as attracted to him if Kirin were ‘womanly.’ If Moo wanted to fuck a woman, then he’d fuck a woman. Still, he wasn’t above using Kirin’s insecurity at being emasculated against him, especially in the early days when their relationship had been less clearly defined. He was less likely to do it now, though he’d occasionally slip up as Kirin’s drunken night proved: 

_You don’t even remember how to fuck someone anymore. I’ll show you how it’s done_.

A normal person might have winced at remembering those words, but Kang Moo was incapable of experiencing regret or remorse. It wasn’t even important whether or not Kirin remembered what Moo had said. What was important to Moo had been Kirin’s _intention_. This wasn’t the first time Kirin had brought up the idea of swapping roles. The other time had been at Kang Moo’s house, when Kang Moo had brought Kirin home to meet his parents. Then, Kirin had been depressed, filled with shame at being so thoroughly dominated by Moo. Moo’s response had been instinctive – to dominate Kirin again – but also to give Kirin something that he so desperately wanted – the understanding that he wasn’t helpless in their relationship, that the imbalance wasn’t as great as Kirin feared. 

_Stop the beast inside me from running wild. Hold on to me. Only you can do it_.

Moo hadn’t thought of them as equals then (he was still getting used to the idea now), but he’d already recognized that Kirin was different. He didn’t know _how_ , only that Kirin was. Dominating Kirin had been the right play. Now, circumstances had changed. Moo would have to teach Kirin his place, but he would do so by giving Kirin what he wanted.

* * *

Kirin unlocked the door to Moo’s apartment. It still felt a little surreal that he had a key. He hadn’t even asked for one, Moo had simply given it to him as though something were understood. (Maybe something was.) He walked down the hallway, slinging off his backpack and taking off his coat as he did so. He dumped his backpack at one end of the sofa, slung his coat over the sofa’s back, and then proceeded to remove his scarf. He folded it and placed it next to his backpack. 

Kirin was greeted by silence. Moo wasn’t home yet.

He opened his backpack and began rummaging around. He’d gotten used to bringing spare clothes with him whenever he went to Moo’s, anticipating that he’d sleep over. He even had his own toothbrush in the bathroom now. The next step would be to grab some closet space, of which there was plenty. Moo’s dressing room . . . walk-in closet . . . or whatever you wanted to call it was ginormous, just like the rest of his spacious apartment.

“Why is everything black?” Kirin had asked, the first time he’d followed Moo into the dressing room so that he could borrow some clothes. 

“It’s the only color I can stand,” Moo had answered, passing him a pair of black (silk!) pajamas. They’d felt heavenly against Kirin’s skin, even if he hadn’t worn them for very long. With Moo, he’d gotten used to sleeping naked. It made it easier to have sex in the morning.

“But you’re a med student,” Kirin had pointed out. “What about scrubs and lab coats? Aren’t they required?” 

“I compromise.” 

“You know how to do that?” 

Moo had chuckled. “On occasion,” he’d said. “The black clothing is an OCD trait,” he’d explained matter-of-factly. “I had to give the white lab coat and medical scrubs serious thought before deciding to pursue medicine as a field of study.” 

“I bet you’d look really hot in a lab coat.” 

“Is that a kink, Kirin?” 

It’d been Kirin’s turn to laugh. “Maybe?” he’d teased.

Kirin turned at the sound of the door unlocking. Moo was home. He began walking back down the hallway before he’d even realized it. 

“Hey,” he said, meeting Moo halfway. He reached for the bags of take-out food that Moo was carrying in his left arm. 

“Been here long?” Moo said, handing the food over. 

“No,” Kirin replied. “Just got in a few minutes before you.” 

They walked down the rest of the hallway together.

“I should’ve just picked you up then.” 

“Nah,” Kirin disagreed. “It’s faster for me to come here directly from school. Your school isn’t anywhere near mine.” He opened the bags of take-out and peered inside. “Dinner?” he said. 

“It’s your favorite fried chicken.” Moo paused when he saw that Kirin wasn’t reacting. “Not in the mood?”

“Huh?” Kirin said, looking up. “No,” he protested. “I love this stuff.” 

“But?” 

“But . . . I was kinda hoping you’d cook.” 

Moo arched an eyebrow. “You told me that you don’t like home-cooked meals.” 

Kirin shrugged. “It’s different when you cook,” he admitted. “And you don’t just make the ‘simple stuff,’” he added.

One of the things that Kirin had learned about Kang Moo was that he could be the master of understatement. _I’m good at hunting_ meant that he was a crack shot of the sniper caliber variety. _I can cook simple dishes_ translated into he was a Michelin-level chef who wasn’t too fond of the cleaning up that cooking entailed. Which was another way of saying that words like ‘good’ and ‘simple’ often had a different meaning for Kang Moo than they did for the average person. Case in point? If Kirin asked Kang Moo whether he knew how to play chess and Kang Moo replied that he was a ‘good’ chess player, well . . . Kirin would just translate that as Kang Moo was a Grand Master. Kang Moo’s track record gave him no reason to think otherwise.

“I’ll cook next time.” 

That was another thing Kirin liked about Kang Moo. He meant what he said. There was no obfuscation and he didn’t forget. If Kang Moo said that he’d “cook next time,” then he’d cook next time. Simple as that. Kirin smiled.

“Why don’t you bring that into the kitchen?” Moo suggested. “I’m going to have a shower before dinner.” 

“Okay,” Kirin agreed. 

“How about you?” 

“What about me?” 

“Want to have a shower before dinner?” 

Kirin made a face. “I’ll shower later,” he said. _After I’m sticky and sweaty from sex_ , he added silently. 

Moo nodded as he removed his coat, heading for his dressing room.

While Moo showered, Kirin went about setting the table for dinner. He was the type to eat straight out of take-out boxes; Kang Moo was not. Kirin knew his way around Moo’s kitchen now, though he hadn’t been brave enough to actually cook anything, not even ramen. Of course, the apartment had a proper dining room, which Moo rarely used. (The only time Kirin had become acquainted with the dining table was when Moo had fucked him on it.) They both preferred to eat in the kitchen. It was certainly spacious enough, and much less formal (though the first time they’d eaten there, Kirin had still felt a little intimidated).

By the time Moo joined him at the table, hair still damp and dressed only in a bathrobe (Kirin tried not to stare too obviously at the V-line of bare skin that the slightly loose robe revealed), Kirin was pulling out beers from the refrigerator. 

“Beer or soju?” he belatedly asked. 

“Beer,” Moo answered.

Kirin popped open the two bottles and placed one in front of Moo, before sitting down himself. Moo took a long pull and this time Kirin admired the long, clean line of his neck that fanned out into broad shoulders and a strong, but lean chest. Kang Moo worked out. He had an athletic body that made Kirin feel unfit. Technically, he wasn’t unfit. He liked hiking and before he’d met Moo, he’d biked everywhere. He didn’t have a car so bike-riding was practical and a nice workout. But his boyfriend was hot. And if he couldn’t ogle Kang Moo in private, then when could he ogle him?

Moo gave him a knowing look when he put down his beer. He knew that Kirin had been staring. Kirin wasn’t even embarrassed at being caught. He just grinned and began helping himself to the fried chicken. His favorite was the garlicky chicken, but Kang Moo had also bought the BBQ flavor and the spicy version. 

“How’d your project turn out?” Moo asked.

This was something else that Kirin had grown used to with Kang Moo. Mundane conversation. He didn’t mean that negatively. On the contrary, he liked it. It was so _normal_. It was surreal _not_ to be talking about murder and profilers and investigations, about being tailed or taking extra precautions, about bodyguards and tracking devices. Life was starting to feel _normal_ again, and Kirin had come out of that dark period with a brand new boyfriend. 

“Eh, it was okay,” Kirin answered, not sounding particularly enthused. 

“That doesn’t sound okay.”

Kirin picked up one of the spicy pieces of chicken. (The spicy flavor was Kang Moo’s favorite.) “We weren’t able to choose our groupmates for this project,” he explained. “They were assigned. I wasn’t very lucky in the draw. Kyung-hoon and Hyeri are fantastic groupmates. But the guys I ended up with . . .” he trailed off. 

“Freeloaders?” Moo translated. 

“Not as bad as that,” Kirin conceded. “Just . . . lazy. And careless with their work. The type that would drive you crazy,” he added with a grin.

Kirin knew how meticulous Moo was, how he paid attention to the smallest detail, how he would have a contingency to the contingency. Shoddy work would set Moo off. Then again, if you were groupmates with Kang Moo, shoddy work wouldn’t be a possibility. 

“How well you know me,” Moo commented. 

“I’m learning,” Kirin said, still grinning. 

If Kirin had been enjoying his garlicky fried chicken a little less, he would’ve seen the slight glint in Kang Moo’s dark eyes, and perhaps been a little concerned.

* * *

They were lounging on the sofa after dinner. Kang Moo was studying. Kirin was only beginning to realize how much Kang Moo studied, for school or otherwise. The large, hardbound medical textbooks were the most leafed through books in Moo’s apartment. _Moo would be a great medical doctor_ , Kirin thought. Maybe he wouldn’t have much of a bedside manner – he wasn’t studying to be _that_ kind of doctor anyway – but it was hard not to think of Kang Moo excelling at whatever he put his mind to. His brain may not have been wired to experience anything beyond shallow emotions, but it was high-functioning – even superior – in other capacities. That explained why Kang Moo was studying after dinner, while Kirin stretched out on the sofa, his head in Moo’s lap, listening to music through his Air Pods and generally being a bit of a nuisance.

“I like you with glasses,” Kirin said, looking up. He lowered the volume of the music from his phone. “They make you look sexy. Not that you aren’t sexy without them,” he quickly added. “It’s just a different kind of sexy. An intellectual sexy.” Kirin paused. Wait. That didn’t come out right. “I’m not saying that you don’t look intellectual _without_ glasses,” he backtracked. 

“Kirin.” 

Kirin shut up. When Kang Moo used that tone, anybody would shut up.

Moo leaned forward and placed the heavy textbook on the coffee table. Then he took off the glasses, lightly rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger to ease the tension there (Kirin thought that was sexy too), before placing the glasses on top of the closed textbook. 

“Are you finished?” Kirin asked, a little cheekily. He shut the music off completely. 

“Yes.”

Kirin took that as the cue to sit up. He swiveled around so that his legs fell across Moo’s lap as he propped his right elbow on Moo’s shoulder, his head braced against his hand. He felt comfortable enough to act this way around Moo now. He was probably being a little abusive ( _playful_ , he told himself) and Moo had called him a ‘child’ on more than one occasion, but Kirin didn’t care. He was affectionate and tactile with the people he loved, and Kang Moo now fell into that category. He’d just have to deal with it. Besides, Moo was mature enough for the both of them.

“So . . .” Kirin dragged the word out, inclining his head in the direction of the bed. He wasn’t aiming for subtlety tonight. 

Moo’s gaze never left Kirin’s face, though he obviously understood Kirin’s meaning. When he lifted his hand and traced Kirin’s lower lip with his thumb, Kirin automatically opened his mouth and sucked. He leaned forward when Moo removed his thumb, chasing an expected kiss only to be surprised when Moo pulled away. His confusion must’ve apparent because Moo said:

“Let’s try something different tonight.” 

“Different?” Kirin repeated, his inflection turning the word into a question. At Moo’s smirk, Kirin sighed. “Are you bringing out the toys tonight?” 

“Are you into that sort of thing?” 

“I don’t know,” Kirin admitted. “I’ve never tried using sex toys.” He met Moo’s gaze. “But you seem like you’d know what to do with them.” 

“I do.”

Kirin sighed again. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to use sex toys, but he trusted Moo. Sure, Moo might tease and embarrass him, but he’d never _hurt_ him. He wouldn’t do anything that Kirin didn’t want, right? That was the essence of trust. He licked his lips. He was going to say something when Moo startled him by laughing. 

“We’re not going to use sex toys, Kirin,” he said. “This is about something you want to do,” Moo added. “Something I think you drank a little too much over a couple of night ago, maybe to have some liquid courage. Not that you could’ve fucked me in that state.”

Kirin’s mouth had gone dry. He wasn’t misunderstanding Moo, was he? Was Kang Moo really saying . . . 

“I don’t understand,” Kirin blurted. 

“Sure you do,” Moo told him. “Unless . . . you _don’t_ want to fuck me anymore?”

Kirin almost bolted out of the sofa, but Moo’s arms suddenly came down on his legs, holding him in place. “So,” Moo said, an amused smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “Do you want to fuck me tonight?” 

Kirin frowned. “If this is a joke,” he said seriously. “It’s not funny.” 

“I wouldn’t joke about something like this.” 

Kirin was still troubled. “You’d really let me fuck you?” he questioned. “Why? Why now?” 

“You’ve been sulking for nearly a week,” Moo replied. “It’s a pain. And besides, I don’t think this will turn out the way you expect.” 

“Because you’re not really going to let me fuck you,” Kirin finished for him. 

Moo stood up suddenly in response, dislodging Kirin from his lap. He reached down and grabbed Kirin’s hand to pull him up. “Let’s move to the bed,” he said.

* * *

Kirin couldn’t recall the last time he’d been so nervous in a sexual situation with Kang Moo. No, wait. That wasn’t true. He remembered. It’d been the night of the hunt; the night Kang Moo had saved him from hanging upside down from a tree in that damn forest. They’d gone to a motel after Moo had carried him down that mountain in the dark. That night hadn’t even been the first time that Moo had saved him or had looked after him. It’d been the second. But it was the first time that Kirin had truly, _voluntarily_ had sex with Kang Moo. He hadn’t been oblivious to his growing attraction to Kang Moo, even though he hadn’t understood it either. What they’d been doing was a charade. They were _pretending_ to be partners. But somewhere along the line, the pretending part had grown blurry, and Kirin had wanted Moo in ways that confused him and he couldn’t express. What made Kang Moo so special? Now, Kirin knew the answer.

But he hadn’t known the answer on that night. What he remembered was his trepidation, his anxiety, the thrill and excitement of lying down on that bed with his legs spread as Kang Moo knelt in front of him and took off his shirt. 

Now their roles were reversed.

Kang Moo was the one lying down on the bed, naked, with Kirin kneeling in between Moo’s spread legs. He looked perfectly at ease, almost a little bored (he had that bored aristocratic air about him), as though Kirin were taking too long and he was losing interest. Kirin, for his part, felt the pressure of his inexperience. He knew what to do. How many times had Moo fucked him over the past few months? _Of course_ , he knew what to do. But actually _doing it_ was another matter.

Kirin rubbed his hands together. His palms were sweaty. He reached for the lube beside him and uncapped it. 

“Do you want to use gloves?” 

Kirin almost dropped the lube. “What?” he said, looking at Moo. 

“Do you want to use gloves?” Moo repeated. When Kirin continued to look at him uncomprehendingly, he said, “I used gloves with Lim Joohyuk.” 

The mention of that asshole’s name snapped Kirin out of his stupor. “Lim Joohyuk?” he said, shocked. “You fucked Lim Joohyuk?”

Moo burst out laughing. “God, no,” he said, still laughing. “I wouldn’t have fucked Joohyuk if he was the last person on this planet.” He sat up, resting his arms on his still-spread knees and looked at Kirin slyly. “Joohyuk was very jealous of you,” he told Kirin. “He always wanted to know what you had that he didn’t; why I was into you but not him.” He paused, cupping Kirin’s chin in his fingers. “Did you know that he set up that orgy just to piss me off? Sure, Kibum, Eun-ho and the others wanted to fuck you, but Joohyuk wasn’t interested. He was after my reaction.”

Kirin was mesmerized by Kang Moo’s voice, no matter how awful the words coming out of his mouth. Moo was close enough to kiss and he leaned forward again when Moo stopped speaking, but for the second time that night Moo pulled away. Kirin couldn’t hide his surprise, or his disappointment. Moo was settling against the bed again, putting his weight on his arms with that same bored aristocratic air. 

“If I kissed you now, I’d wind up fucking you,” Moo explained. “And then we’d be back at square one.” He motioned towards the lube, indicating that Kirin should pick up where he’d left off.

Kirin felt a little petulant as he picked up the lube and squeezed some of its contents onto his fingers. He didn’t like being denied a kiss. Twice. The gel was cool, which made him realize that Kang Moo must always warm the gel before fingering him. He did the same. 

“Why did you finger Lim Joohyuk if you didn’t fuck him?” he asked. He hated the thought of the two of them together, even if Moo had made it clear that he hadn’t been interested in Joohyuk one bit. Kirin didn’t think of himself as the jealous type, but Joohyuk was scum. It was just _wrong_ to think of Lim Joohyuk and Kang Moo together.

“Joohyuk came to me after Choi Kyung-bin was arrested,” Moo said. “He wanted to apologize for thinking that I was the killer. His idea of an apology was to give me a blowjob. A very pathetic blowjob,” he added, derision in his voice. Head still bowed, Kirin couldn’t help but smile. “The thought of Joohyuk giving me a blowjob made my skin crawl, so I told him to take off his pants and get on the bed, facedown.” 

“And he did?” 

“Eagerly.” 

“What then?” 

“Joohyuk had asked me to fuck him before, so he was expecting that I’d fuck him then.” 

“But?” 

“But instead I shoved my fingers up his ass and made him come from a prostate massage.” Moo smirked and Kirin’s disbelieving expression. “It was obviously his first time. I told him it was good for his health.”

Kirin could imagine the scene playing out in his mind. Joohyuk’s anxiety, his shame. How Kang Moo could dole out humiliation so effortlessly and effectively. He could be cruel. He could toy with people’s emotions so easily because he didn’t feel any remorse, because it was all fun and games to him. Kirin had been on the receiving end of Kang Moo’s cruelty – on Jeju Island, in the suite after Mr. Jang had kidnapped him – and he didn’t want to experience it again. He knew that he would. It was inevitable. Their relationship wasn’t going to be smooth sailing, but Kirin would do his best to avoid it. 

“Kirin.” 

Kirin looked up. 

“Are you going to finger me or what?” 

“Shut up!”

Kirin flushed. Moo could be so direct. And now that Kirin was about to do just that, he thought that putting his fingers in someone else’s ass had to be the most embarrassing thing he’d ever do, hands down. How did Kang Moo make this part so sexy?

Moo reached forward and held Kirin’s wrist. He brought Kirin’s hand to his entrance, fingers not quite touching his hole. Kirin resisted at the last moment, but Moo held firm. He looked Kirin squarely in the eye. 

“You can use two fingers,” he said. 

“Won’t that be uncomfortable?” 

“I can take it.” 

Moo released his hand. Kirin didn’t flinch. 

“Do it.”

Kirin held Moo’s gaze. He didn’t feel like he was in control at all. Fingers slick with lube, he pushed inside. Moo didn’t react. Kirin felt Moo’s passage bearing down on him. He was so tight. How would Kirin fit? 

“You need to move.” 

Kirin did. In. Out. In. Out. There wasn’t anything sexy about this. _This must be what a rectal exam is like_ , he thought. Only he wasn’t the med student. 

“Have I found it?” 

“No.” 

Kirin doubled his efforts. He didn’t know where ‘it’ was, but he concentrated harder, trying to feel for a little bump or nub along the passage. That’s what the prostate was, right?

“Scissor your fingers,” Moo instructed. “That’ll prep me quicker.” 

Kirin obeyed. “Have I found it?” he asked again. 

“No.” 

Kirin’s brow furrowed. He didn’t realize that he was biting his lower lip until Moo ran a thumb over it. 

“You’re so tense,” Moo said. “I’m starting to feel like a science experiment.” 

_That_ comment didn’t ease Kirin’s tension. He frowned. 

“Come here,” Moo said.

He spread his legs a bit wider, pulling Kirin down in the process. Kirin had to brace himself with his free hand, the fingers of his other hand still buried in Moo’s ass. Moo gripped the back of his neck, drawing Kirin into a slow, deep, open-mouthed kiss – Kirin’s favorite kind of kiss. He lost himself in the kiss, the tension leaving him as he welcomed the possessiveness of Moo’s kiss. Some part of him dimly registered that Moo hadn’t given up control for one moment. Had Kirin expected things to be different? 

“Insert another finger,” Moo said, licking the shell of Kirin’s ear. 

Kirin pulled away slightly. “You’re sure?” he asked. 

“You’re a decent size, Kirin,” Moo told him. “Two fingers aren’t going to cut it.”

Kirin sat back, withdrawing his fingers at the same time. He reapplied the lube before going back in, three fingers this time. It still felt awkward as hell to him, but at least he wasn’t as tense. Moo was lounging on the bed. He no longer had that bored aristocratic air, but Kirin was aware of being watched intently. Moo was good at that – cataloguing responses, observing behavior. It was how he’d built his vast repository of human behavioral responses.

“Ah. You found it.” 

“Where?” Kirin asked, a little excitedly. Nothing felt any different to him. 

“A little more to the left. _Your_ left,” Moo added. “ . . . there.”

Kirin had found a rhythm, his fingers undulating in a similar way to how Moo fingered him. He just wasn’t as precise, or as good with applying the right amount of pressure. Like any skill, it would take practice. Moo’s eyes had drifted shut at the second pass on his prostate. Aside from that, he showed no other outward reaction. Kirin wondered if Moo’s superhuman control extended to this. He wouldn’t have been surprised. 

“Hey,” he said softly. “Has anyone fucked you before?” 

“Once.”

The sudden spike of jealousy surprised Kirin. He’d expected the answer to be ‘no.’ He couldn’t imagine Kang Moo giving up that kind of control to anyone, couldn’t imagine Kang Moo being _dominated_ by anyone. Then, he remembered his own circumstances tonight. Kang Moo was _allowing_ Kirin to fuck him. He was dictating pace and pleasure. Had Kang Moo given up control of anything? 

“Are you disappointed?” Moo had opened his eyes and his gaze bore straight into Kirin. 

“Yes,” Kirin admitted. He’d thought he was special. He’d wanted to be the first. “Who was it?” he asked, his curiosity too great to silence. 

“Shihyun.”

 _Yoon Shihyun_. The grandson of the Chairman of Yoon Industries. Kirin had met him not too long ago at that swanky hotel restaurant where he’d had a late-night dinner with Kang Moo. Shihyun had made quite an impression on Kirin, not just because of his immense wealth and family name, but also because of his relationship with Kang Moo. Even in that brief meeting, Kirin had sensed that there was something different about Shihyun, that Moo treated Shihyun differently from others. This was strengthened by the knowledge that Moo would have left Behemoth to Shihyun when he went to the U.S. to study, only Shihyun had also been abroad himself. Through their limited interaction and Kang Moo’s words, Kirin had come to think of Shihyun as Moo’s lieutenant, a sort of second-in-command. And Shihyun’s certainty that he would see Kirin in the future felt truer than ever.

“That’s enough,” Moo said. “Put it in.” 

Once again, Kirin obeyed, slipping his fingers out. He squeezed more lube onto his hands, this time to slick himself up. 

“Do you want to use a condom?” 

Kirin looked up. “You don’t use condoms,” he pointed out. 

“That’s me,” Moo said. “You may want to use a condom.”

“Do _you_ want me to use a condom?” 

“It doesn’t matter to me.” 

“Can I come inside?” Kirin suddenly asked. 

“If you want.” 

Kirin began to chuckle. “You’re really taking the romance out of this,” he said. 

“Is this supposed to be romantic?”

“I guess not,” Kirin agreed. He’d kept stroking himself while he’d been speaking and now he was ready. “Are you going to turn over?” 

“No. I want to see you.”

Cock still in hand, Kirin felt himself flushing, the heat spreading up his neck and warming his cheeks. He’d been expecting this, but a part of him had still hoped that Moo would take it from behind. He set his jaw in a hard line. He’d come this far; he wasn’t going to stop now. 

Moo began to chuckle. “Do you know how cute you look when you’re this determined?” 

“Shut up!”

Kirin lunged at Moo before he could think better of it. Moo fell backwards and Kirin landed on top of him. The position wasn’t unfamiliar to Kirin, but this time he was aware of Moo’s greater physicality and his superior strength. Moo’s arms wrapped around his back, holding him firmly in place. Instead of feeling trapped, there was something comforting about the gesture. 

“Relax, Kirin,” Moo said. “This is supposed to be fun.” 

“You’re making me nervous!” Kirin said, half-heartedly striking Moo’s shoulder despite his limited mobility.

Moo’s response was to laugh ( _Damn him!_ ), lean upwards and kiss Kirin’s shoulder in return. When Moo turned his head, Kirin was pushing him back onto the bed with his own kiss. Moo gave in to the kiss and Kirin felt the arms around his back loosen their hold, hands sliding down into the small of his back, over the curves of ass, cupping them. Kirin didn’t realize that he’d broken off the kiss until he caught Moo smirking at him. _Damn him!_ Kirin thought again. Damn him because Moo knew _exactly_ what Kirin had been thinking – what Kirin had secretly been hoping for – that Moo would’ve touched him lower, would’ve finger-fucked him as usual. Moo was chuckling again, nipping Kirin on the shoulder. 

“Put it in, Kirin,” he said. “Before you get distracted again.” 

“As if you’re not doing that on purpose!” Kirin shot back.

Moo’s laugh was infuriating, and Kirin pushed himself off of the other man, sitting back on his heels. He grabbed Moo by the thighs, yanking Moo back toward him. With his left hand curled around the base of Moo’s right thigh, Kirin guided himself to Moo’s entrance, the head of his cock pushing at, but not breaching the hole. 

“Do it.” 

Kirin grimaced and pushed. “It’s not going in,” he muttered. 

“Go harder.”

Kirin thought of how Kang Moo just took what he wanted, of how confident he was in his ability to _know_ what his partner wanted. Kirin didn’t have that ability, but he’d always been good at following instructions as tonight showed. He pushed through the tight ring. Once he breached that, the rest of the slide was easier. He grimaced again when he was balls deep, breathing heavily from the effort and the heat that enveloped him. 

“Stop squeezing,” he said, his voice somewhat strained. 

“I’m not,” Moo replied, as calm as ever. 

“Then, it’s too tight. I can’t move.”

Moo was reaching for him, pulling him down again, so that Kirin had to brace himself, his arms on either side of Moo’s body. One of Moo’s hands ran up and down his back soothingly, while Kirin trembled from the effort of not being able to move. 

“Do you think kissing makes me feel better?” Kirin asked, when it became clear that Moo was going to do precisely that. 

Moo’s lips quirked upward in a half-smirk. “Doesn’t it?” he questioned. 

“Yeah,” Kirin agreed. “It does.”

The kiss was a distraction. A welcome one. But Kirin broke it off when Moo surprised him (again) by canting his hips backwards and then driving forward. 

“Ugh,” Kirin said at the unexpected thrust, at the slick slide and sweet pressure on his cock. 

Moo’s voice was low in his ear. “Finish what you start, Kirin. You’re not a quitter. Or will I have to do all the work tonight?” 

“You asshole,” Kirin told him.

His first thrust was hard, harder than he normally would’ve done if his partner had been a woman. Kirin didn’t relent after that, keeping himself braced over Moo’s body. Moo’s hands remained at Kirin’s sides, lightly gripping him, doing nothing to encourage nor to goad. Kirin didn’t even know if he was hitting Moo’s prostate. He had to be, right? But he couldn’t tell from Moo’s reactions. Moo may have enjoyed hearing Kirin’s moans and cries during sex, but he was a silent motherfucker. It didn’t matter if he was the one being fucked.

Kirin lost himself in the rhythm of his driving hips, in the sensation of Moo’s walls squeezing him with every thrust. The pressure was exquisite. He’d thought that this wouldn’t be much different from sex with a woman, but he was wrong. It was better. Or was it better because it was _Kang Moo_? Kirin was so caught up in the moment that he was surprised when his head was jerked upward by the chin. Moo was observing him. 

“You’re close,” he said. 

Flushed and with sweat trickling down the side of his face, Kirin nodded, short of breath. “Are you?” he asked. 

“No. You’ll have to go harder if you want me to come from this.” 

“Touch yourself.” 

“No.”

Moo rose from the bed, resuming his grip around Kirin’s back to keep Kirin steady. Kirin grunted as the motion made Moo squeeze tighter around him. “Ugh,” he said, his own arms wrapping around Moo’s shoulders. 

“I’m going to come inside of you,” Moo whispered in his ear.

Kirin climaxed suddenly, white hot and fast, as though triggered by Moo’s words. He shuddered as he gripped Moo’s shoulders, his body trembling from his release. Before he was even finished, Moo was throwing him down on the bed. He shoved in with one hard thrust, making Kirin cry out.

“You son of a bitch!” Kirin yelled, fingernails digging into Moo’s shoulders from the shock and pain, though a part of him knew that it would’ve hurt a lot more if he didn’t regularly stretch himself before meeting Moo. Kirin always assumed that they were going to have sex. 

Moo stilled, an unexpected action from him. Kirin felt the full weight of Moo on top of him. It no longer disconcerted him the way it once did. He felt full, as though Kang Moo touched every part of him. He suddenly understood what Moo had left unsaid. 

“Do you understand now?”

It was infuriating how well Moo could read him, how he simply _knew_ these things. This _had been his plan all along_ , Kirin thought. He understood, but he wouldn’t give Moo the satisfaction of admitting it. Instead, he said: “Kiss me.”

It was a demand. A petulant demand, but a demand. Moo’s answering chuckle was soft, but he acquiesced. Kirin’s hands drifted from Moo’s shoulders to cradle the back of his neck. He liked holding Moo in place when they kissed. It was a habit he’d gotten into from the beginning, but it also stemmed from the irrational fear that Moo would leave him again. 

“Ugh, wait,” Kirin gasped, when Moo began to move, well-placed thrusts that hit Kirin’s spot. “Wait,” Kirin said again. “I just came. I can’t go again so soon.” 

“I know you can keep going,” Moo said, canting Kirin’s hips upwards, his angle even better than before. 

“No, wait.” 

Kirin’s pleas fell on deaf ears. Despite his protests, his body was already responding, his cock swelling again. “Fuck,” he cried, burying his head in Moo’s shoulder while his ass took another pounding. He knew from experience that Moo would be going for a while.

* * *

Kirin lay face down on the bed, his head turned away from the bathroom. The water had stopped running a little while ago. He felt more wrecked than usual. He needed to wash, but felt like he didn’t have the energy to stand, much less walk to the shower. The bed dipped when Kang Moo joined him. 

“Aren’t you going to wash?” 

“Yes,” Kirin answered, but didn’t move. 

“I can run a bath for you,” Moo offered. 

“Can you carry me to the bath, too?” Kirin said, only half joking. 

“If you don’t kick and scream about it,” Moo replied.

Kirin chuckled. “I really might take you up on that,” he said. 

“I have something for you.” 

At this, Kirin finally made the effort to turn around. Moo was sitting up, leaning against the pillows propped against the headboard. A necklace was dangling from his hand. 

Kirin pushed himself into a sitting position to get a better look at the necklace, even though he felt a twinge in his butt. “Jewelry?” he said, fingering the rectangular, flat metal pendant. It didn’t look like silver to him. “You’re giving me jewelry? Isn’t it too soon for that?” 

“It’s your new tracker.”

All of a sudden, the pendant felt heavy on Kirin’s fingers. He looked up. 

“You said that you accepted it,” Moo reminded him. “As a condition of being with me.”

Kirin glanced back down at the pendant. He nodded, moving closer to Moo and turning around, indicating that Moo should put the necklace on him. He continued to finger the pendant while Moo snapped the clasp around his neck. 

“This doesn’t look like silver,” he said. 

“It’s not,” Moo confirmed. “It’s platinum.” 

“Not white gold?”

“White gold uses alloys to create a silver effect,” Moo explained. “It’s impure and requires more maintenance, regular dipping every two years or so. Platinum is a much denser and more durable metal than either silver or gold. You’re a young, active man. Platinum better suits your lifestyle.” 

Kirin leaned back against Kang Moo, smiling to himself at Moo’s explanation. Reasonable, logical and well thought-out. Typical of Kang Moo. 

“Do you like it?” 

Kirin nodded. “I do.” He paused. “Why not the watch?” he said, after a moment.

“Your watch was a gift from Seorin,” Moo replied. “You should have something from me.” 

Kirin couldn’t argue with that either. He shut his eyes. Moo smelled good from his shower, his skin still slightly damp. 

“Kirin.” There was a warning note in Moo’s voice. “You’ll fall asleep.” 

“I won’t,” Kirin murmured. It was a lie. He was going to fall asleep. 

The bed shifted.

Kirin felt himself being dragged and then being scooped up behind his knees. “Ah!” he cried, as his right arm flailed before finally grabbing Kang Moo around the neck. “What are you doing?” 

“You said you wouldn’t kick and scream,” Moo reminded him, carrying Kirin into the bathroom. 

“You jerk,” Kirin grumbled.

Kang Moo put him down in front of the bathtub, keeping one arm around Kirin’s waist to steady him. (Kirin did feel a little wobbly.) With his free hand, he reached over and turned on the tap, mixing the water to the right temperature. He gestured that Kirin should get in the tub. 

“Only if you get in with me,” Kirin said. ( _Now_ he was being a petulant child.) 

“I’ve already showered.” 

“ _Please_.” 

“Get in first.”

Kirin hesitated, giving Kang Moo a long look. Moo was clever with his words. He always did what he said he would do, but lately Kirin had given a lot of thought to his wording. Take now, for instance. Moo hadn’t actually _said_ that he’d join Kirin. He’d merely _implied_ it, probably in an effort to get Kirin in the tub. As if reading Kirin’s mind, Moo added: 

“Get in first, and I’ll follow.”

That satisfied Kirin. One hand braced on Moo’s arm for support, he stepped in. The water was rapidly filling the tub. It felt heavenly and Kirin sank into it, leaning against the tub’s ceramic edge and stretching his legs. Moo left the bathroom, but Kirin wasn’t concerned. If Moo said that he’d join Kirin, then he would. Kirin let his eyes drift shut, the warm water massaging his limbs. When he felt a tap on his shoulder, Kirin instinctively moved forward, giving Moo room to slide in behind him. Moo did, and when Kirin leaned back again, he was met by warm skin and muscle instead of hard ceramic. He sighed contentedly. He hadn’t even bothered to open his eyes. Behind him, Moo chuckled. 

“Now you’re just gonna fall asleep like this.” 

“’m not,” Kirin mumbled. 

Moo was right. He _was_ going to fall asleep. They were in the same position that they’d been in in bed, and he felt too relaxed. 

“Hey,” Kirin said, suddenly thinking of something. 

“What?”

Kirin sat up, more alert now. He half turned, so that he could look at Moo. “I get why you did that earlier,” he began. “Why you let me fuck you.” 

“Really?” Moo sounded amused. “And why is that?” 

_That bastard_. He was going to make Kirin say it. 

“So that I would learn . . .” 

“Yes?” 

Kirin gave Moo a dark look. He could already feel himself flushing. “ . . . that I’m a bottom,” he finished. “That I enjoy sex more that way. But only with you,” he added. 

Moo smirked. “Were you planning on having sex with anyone else?” he asked. 

“That’s not funny,” Kirin said, seriously.

“It’s a _little_ funny,” Moo replied, reaching out and pulling Kirin back against him. Kirin grudgingly relented. He didn’t want to fight. “What were you going to tell me?”

Moo had wrapped his arms around Kirin’s waist and Kirin let his own arms fall on top of Moo’s. “Even if I’m a bottom,” he began slowly. “Maybe we can still switch it up from time to time. Not often. Maybe on special occasions?” 

“Special occasions?” Moo repeated. 

“My birthday?” Kirin suggested. “Chuseok?” He glanced behind him. “What do you think?” 

Moo looked thoughtful. “We’ll see,” he said at last. 

Kirin snuggled back into him, smiling. Moo hadn’t said ‘yes,’ but he hadn’t said ‘no’ either. ‘We’ll see’ sounded promising and that was the most that Kirin could hope for.

**Fin.**

**Author's Note:**

> Everything belongs to the creator and Lezhin Comics. No offence is intended; no profit is being made.


End file.
